Mina is cursed. Robar is a playboy. The Crossroads brings them together to break old magic and make a new start.

Mina is a walking disaster. Any man who dates her ends up with some minor or major trouble in his life, body or vehicle. Her community bands together to send her to the Crossroads in an effort to find her a mate far away from the human world.

Robar is sent to the Crossroads by his matriarchal grandmother who demands a proper match for her grandson. He has a plan to cheat the system, but fate shorts out the most carefully laid plans when he is transported.

Together, they run, frolic and he ends up wearing her drinks. What more could you want of a first date?

Excerpt:

Robar sat with his mother and grandmother glaring at him. “What?”

His mother tapped her fingers on the rich tablecloth. “I said you need to stop screwing around and find a mate, Robar. I want grandchildren and your flirtations are not going to get them for me.”

“Stop f--king bimbos, Robar.” His grandmother sipped her tea and smiled beatifically, but there was steel in her gaze.

“But, Nana…I have yet to find the woman for me.” He tried to put an innocent look on his face, but his elegant grandmother saw right through him.

“Zip it, Robar. You have been enjoying the good life for over three decades. It is time to do your duty to your family and be a man, not a boy.” His grandmother glared at him with her dark bronze eyes still keen. “Grow up.”

He blinked in surprise. “You are serious.”

Arduna Pickwik looked over at her mother. “She is serious. She is talking about cutting you out of the will.”

That sent a flutter of panic through him. “Nana?”

Loreada Alenfleur gave him an impassive look. “I have arranged for a transporter. You are going to the Crossroads, and you are not coming back until you have a mate. I don’t care how long it takes. Your time as a bachelor is over. Settle down and start making babies. That is an order.”

Robar Pickwik stared into his grandmother’s eyes, and his predicament came home with a thud. He was going to have to find a wife.

“May I call some of my previous women?” It was the last effort he could muster to get the process over with quickly.

His grandmother smiled. “Of course. If they will meet you at the Crossroads, you will be able to choose one of them. Good luck with that. You leave next weekend.”

She waved her hand lazily at him in dismissal, and Robar got to his feet. He had some calls to make.

This was not the way that he was planning his luncheon to go. Normally, his nana was very cheerful and reasonable. Something must have struck her to make her turn like this.

All he knew was that he had five days to find a woman willing to meet him at the Crossroads. How hard could that be?